


when your heart was open wide

by taizi



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Drabble, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-31
Updated: 2018-03-31
Packaged: 2019-04-16 10:44:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14163120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taizi/pseuds/taizi
Summary: In which Prompto has a weakness for pet names and it's lovingly exploited.





	when your heart was open wide

They’re settled in for the night when Gladio drops bonelessly into a chair after his evening workout. The haven smells like Ignis’ cooking, and the glow of the runes and flickering campfire make a peaceful picture.

It’s comfortable, and it’s languid and warm, and they’re all feeling it. Prompto stops by Gladio’s chair with a cheeky grin and a cool drink, and Gladio tips his head back with a smile.

“Thanks, sweetheart.”

The words by themselves aren’t noteworthy. Gladio’s an affectionate guy, and Noctis _knows_ he’s heard the shield call Ignis ‘babe’ more than once. Even ‘princess’ and ‘blondie’ have taken more of a fond tone than a teasing one since the four of them put pretenses aside and hooked up.

But at the camp stove Ignis goes absolutely still, sharp eyes curious and watchful. Similarly, Gladio’s smile fades in face of a much more interested expression, and Noctis sits upright in his chair. He didn’t miss it, either:

The way Prompto’s whole face went red, all the way to the tips of his ears, and his eyes dipped bashfully away.

Oh, Noctis thinks, with something gleeful squirming in his stomach.  

 

* * *

 

It’s not fair to say they abuse this newfound knowledge, but they certainly explore it.

Prompto colors so easily at praise and affection, flushes and flutters and buries his face behind his fingers. Wherever the rest of them learned how to gracefully accept a kind word or a heavy-eyed appraisal, Prompto clearly missed those life lessons.

In as much as he had never had a friend before Noctis -- had never been kissed until the pleasant evening Gladio finally got his hands on him, had never been held apart from casual hugs and then lingering hands and then shared beds -- it’s obvious from his utter lack of experience in every aspect of the idea that Prompto has never been loved before now, either; not even by a parent, let alone a boyfriend. Let alone _three._

His reactions are sweet, but they’re also very honest, and if Ignis thinks about it too much he’s likely to get angry.

So, perhaps, he lets Noctis go a bit farther than he usually would. The sky is gray with the promise of rain, and the rest of them have their hearts set on the comfortable caravan waiting back at the chocobo post. Prompto himself is eager to go back and get more pictures of the birds -- because, somehow, the dozens he has already isn’t enough -- but Noctis is digging in his heels.

“I haven’t been fishing in _ages,_ ” he says. Ignis prudently doesn’t remind him of the three solid hours he spent fishing a few days ago. “And it’s perfect weather for it!”

“Why does it have to be _me,_ though?” Prompto whines, and it’s a reasonable question. Of the three of them, he’s the quickest to lose patience with the sport, and Noctis tends to sulk when his companion would rather play on their phone than watch his conquest. “Take Gladio!”

“Hell no,” Gladio puts in comfortably. “It was my turn last time.”

Ignis smothers a smile at the look on Noctis’ face, leaning into the arm Gladio wraps around his waist. Noctis looks from their unified front, to the pout on Prompto’s face, and then the prince’s expression turns coy.

“I don’t wanna go with them this time, I wanna go with _you_ ,” he says, striving for the tone Ignis calls charming. More charismatic than he’s ever been at court functions or state dinners, Noct dips his head, holding Prompto’s eyes, and says, “Please, baby?”

It's underhanded at best, because Prompto blushes to the roots of his hair and almost drops his camera, looking everywhere but at any of them. Stammers, "Um -- I mean, yeah, I guess," and Noctis looks all too pleased with himself, shooting a triumphant smirk at Gladio even as he surges forward to wrap Prompto up in his arms. 

They overbalance and go sideways with a squawk, and Gladio drops his head onto Ignis' shoulder, shaking with laughter.

Ignis feels a tug of something simultaneously exasperated and fond and calls over, "Do you need assistance?"

"No!" Prompto squeaks, mortified and somewhat muffled under his king's deadweight. "No, we're good!"

It would be unfair, perhaps even unkind, if Noctis were to resort to this technique every time he and Prompto came to a disagreement just to have the upper hand, but there's no danger of that. Noctis is, among many things, a fool for love, and he cares so deeply for the people in his heart that it's almost absurd. For as long as Prompto reacts the way he does, Noctis is going to be enamored by it, and endeavor to see it again and again, and there's little to be done about that. 

And Prompto really _is_ delighted by the attention, even if he has no idea how to be on the receiving end. Not yet, anyway, Ignis amends with an inward smile. But he'll figure it out once he has more practice fending off these over-affectionate lovers. 

In that light, the hand of the king concedes, it really is for the best that they indulge him. 

 

* * *

 

He overhears Ignis and Prompto in the cramped nook that serves as a kitchenette in the hotel room they’re living out of, on a dark morning that may as well have been a midnight.

“Come, have some breakfast before you leave,” Ignis is saying lightly. Gladio recognizes the softness of his tone as Ignis at his most persuasive, can imagine what his face must look like, and pauses just outside the door. “You’ll need the energy.”

“Aw, I’m fine,” Prompto says. He sounds rough, and his cheer is forced, but the same can be said for all of them these days. “I’ll get something when I come back, okay? I’ll see you-- “

“Prompto.” A soft footfall must be Ignis, crossing the small room. His voice is a little closer when he says, “You haven’t eaten in days. Please don’t think I don’t notice that much. I’m blind but I’m not a fool, and neither is Gladio.”

The silence is painful to bear. Gladio’s hands curl into fists at his sides, his heart racing with something too caring to just be anger and too fierce to just be concern. He counts the heavy seconds as they go by, mounting into almost a minute, and then Prompto lets go of a shaky breath.

“I can’t, Iggy,” he finally says, soft and sorry and so plainly hurting Gladio can’t understand how he thinks they could have missed it. “I -- every time I try to eat I think about how Noct _can’t,_ and I -- and then when I’m sick it’s such a _waste_ and -- I _can’t.”_

“You can,” says Ignis, the voice of someone who’s already lost everything he can stand to lose, “because you must. Do this for me, darling.”

Ignis isn’t above using every card in his hand, not when it comes to things like this. Prompto makes a noise suspiciously close to a sob, and then another, but when he speaks it’s with a smile.

“I’ll -- I’ll try, but only ‘cause you asked so nice,” he says, shaky, a shadow of the way he used to joke around to make the rest of them laugh. “What’d I do to deserve you, anyway?”

A quiet sound that could only be a kiss, and Ignis is smiling when he speaks this time, too. It's not a solution, but it's a start, and just that is precious more than they have a right to expect anymore. “Something wonderful, I’m sure.”

 

* * *

 

Honestly, these last few months, Prompto has been nothing but a  _gem._ Cindy sighs when she spots him in the garage. Just rolled in from a solo hunt and he's already fast at work under one of the damaged cargo trucks without even bothering to change or get something to eat.

She kicks his leg lightly with the toe of her boot, a smile all ready for him when he slides out to see who needs him. 

"Cindy!" he says happily. There are shadows in his face that don't belong there, the way of everyone these days. His bright eyes held out the longest, Cindy thinks with a faint pang. "What do you need?"

"I need my best guy in top shape," she says, faux-scolding, and holds out a plate of sandwiches. "Courtesy of Takka's. Grab a bite with me?"

"Well -- " Prompto hedges, looking over his shoulder at the truck. "They need this up and running, don't they? You're down to three now." 

"It'll keep till after dinner," Cindy tells him firmly. He's stubborn in his own way, but easy to care for if you're willing to dig in your heels and care loudly enough.

Sure enough, when she spins on her heel and heads for a couple of chairs in the corner, he only hesitates a few seconds before falling into step behind her. Thatta boy. They sit close enough their knees bump, and she passes him a sandwich, and they tear into the meal the way of two people who know how it is to go without. 

"Not up to your usual standards, I bet," Cindy teases him. "Not all of us have a live-in five star chef, so you'll just have to deal with it."

"Aw, come on," Prompto says, laughing. "Don't write me off like that. I haven't had Iggy's cooking in years."

Oh, Cindy thinks, and abruptly wants to give her friend a hug. He's a cagey thing, though, so she settles for reaching into the cooler at her feet and handing over a warm beer. Their fingers overlap around the can and she doesn't let go right away, meeting his eyes. 

"We appreciate all you do 'round here," she tells him. "I know you're strugglin', but we all count on you something fierce, so try to take care, alright?"

He looks at her with wide eyes, and Cindy has to wonder how many real conversations he's had in the last however-many-years it's been since he and his boys fell apart. No one has time to stop and chat just for the sake of it anymore, not with the world ending in slow stages all around them, and she aches to think of Prompto going without conversation and companionship just because he doesn't want to be a burden.  

"No matter what else you lost, you got a home here, honey," she says fiercely. "You hear me?"

Something in it seems to reach him. His eyes get a little wet, and his breath hitches, but he looks at her with a shine Cindy thought disappeared with the sun.

"I hear ya," he says, and smiles. 


End file.
